


Pilgrimage

by anesor



Series: Star Wars Snippets [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, Grieving, graveyard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 11:53:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14790020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anesor/pseuds/anesor
Summary: Fugitives have so very few places to find a synpathetic ear when grief is overwhelming.





	Pilgrimage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning](https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning/gifts).



Ben only caught a glimpse of the ravaged ecology as the smuggler made orbit above Mandalor and the pilot spoke to her contacts. The cargo was surely illegal under Imperial rule and packed so it was not clear by eye if it was weapons or medicine.

It was an odd twist of fate that only part of the shipment was medicines and more sophisticated medical gear. The rest was remedial biotech, smuggled from some unknown world, possibly the base of some fugitive Agricorps Jedi.

Would he have been transferred here after his apprenticeship on Bandomeer? He had no talent for the Living Force, but there must have been an honest reason to allocate him there. It would have been a quieter life.

Even after a year’s worth of meditation in the desert, he could not identify just when his efforts had ceased working for the greater good. Naboo he was sure of. Ultipau it was already too late, though he had been more than content that morning.

He was now almost certain his last visit here had been an infinite mistake. Never again would he allow a Sith to extort his presence with a loved one. Falling for the threat did nothing to save their victim, it may have blocked some other solution. Darksiders would not bother to honor the implied bargain to trade lives, they thrived on pain and despair. They seemed to feed on it.

Ben had forgotten that.

He must remember that.

Those checklists that were his responsibility posed no problems until they landed in a patched dome near the old capital. Moving the cargo made flabbier muscles ache after, and he had a shift or two free before loading would begin.

The port master took his crafted identity card and didn’t bat an eye at the green hair and mossy flakes around his head and jaw. His accent hadn’t changed enough yet to sound native to the Rim, but he spoke as little as he could manage.

The only pause when he gave his reason to leave port in Basic: “Pilgrimage.”

The scoffing was clear in the local language, even if it was muttered.

“I lost my troop and walked the battle line alone, but I have been a warrior all my life.” Ben replied in their language. He doubted he could explain why he came here if he wanted to, even in their language, rich in duty and responsibility. “I am here to mourn.”

Perhaps he snarled that, but the port official backed down and let him pass.

A few minutes at an information kiosk, and he had directions for a memorial for past rulers.

By the time he reached it, he felt empty and aching.

The memorial plaque said little beyond her name and the dates that bookmarked her life. Enough time had passed that only a few tired lilies rested on the floor below her name. 

No one else was in the mausoleum, a small mercy. 

Obi-Wan knelt beside her, running his knuckles along her engraved name, only a little harder and colder than when she was really angry with him. He started taking deep breaths, hoping to reach his center for a change.

As close to serenity as he thought he’d get, he projected his dangerous thoughts and feelings and loneliness as if she  _could_ hear him now. Not like she ever could before. 

_**-Beloved, I’ve missed you so much.-** _ The steady pace of his heartbeat and breathing marked time in a distant way.  **-** _**Everything fell apart. No one is left. My center has gone so dark and it is so bleak. He destroyed everything else that I loved, even himself…-** _

Obi-Wan looked down the wall, holding dozens of memorials for an endangered but  _not yet_ destroyed people. He still sought some  _understanding._

_**-I need hope sooner than the decades of my Grandmaster’s plan. I need to look upon hope, to see that everything I’ve done, we’ve done, was not in vain. I failed to keep my serenity, I still fail that I need another.** _ **Gedet'ye, cyar'ika, I need your hope so badly.-**

Memories awoke like a holo as the Force swirled around him. He remembered the brash words of their youth, their almost bitter parting for duties, and later diplomatic meetings where the affections were honed but not faded. 

Her words were idealistic, wise, and necessarily stern when one crisis had passed. ‘shh, shh, my Obi. No evil lasts forever, even for the fools who revel in it. Darkness cannot smother the suns forever.’

He felt as if she was almost touching his shields before she faded away and the Force grew quiet.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I think Obi-Wan learned too well that Sith won't give back hostages, and Luke didn't listen any better later. I haveto include hope...
> 
> Pilgrimage is a Star Wars fanfic, and most everything is owned by George Lucas and Disney with no infringement intended. I make no profit from this story.


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